


We Were Always Meant To Meet

by foodie2468



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-02
Updated: 2013-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-28 06:04:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/988582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foodie2468/pseuds/foodie2468
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soccer was Hope's past. A long lost dream she hand't been involved in since her college years. During her normal morning coffee run before work, the past burst back into her life in the form of an attractive young pro player.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Were Always Meant To Meet

The pungent smell of darkly brewed coffee wafted up, the warmth caressing her thawing cheeks as she took a sip of the hot liquid. It burned a comforting trail down her throat and into her belly. With a soft sigh, Hope lowered the paper coffee cup and glanced at the clock on the far wall. She had about five minutes till she needed to be in her car and on her way to the office. Plenty of time to down at least half of her americano, take a few bites of the blueberry muffin, and trip through the gathering crowd. 

Just another Friday morning. 

Taking another sip, she let her eyes roam the small coffee shop. Like every morning, the same packs of office workers and slaves to corporate Seattle pushed and prodded their way into a semi-decent line. The tall bald guy in the red tie always ordered a regular coffee, but put almost a cup of sugar into it. The petite college co-ed interning in the mornings at one of the firms muttered to herself her boss’s order, afraid to get it wrong and mess up her shot at a job after graduation. Mimi worked the counter. She always had a smile but was quick and didn’t let anyone take too long to order. When Hope arrived at 8:40am – just like she always did Monday through Friday – her order was already being pushed across the counter with a wink. 

The first time it happened, there was a phone number written across the white paper cup. 

That had been a fun night. 

Twisting her wrist to peek at her watch, Hope juggled her muffin, weakly griping it in her right palm while plucking off a bite with her thumb and forefinger. She winced slightly as the inside of her forearm twinged at the action. Her eyes automatically went to the pain. The grey suit jacket covered her skin, but she clearly remembered what the pale white scar looked like. She bit her lip as the flash of memory ignored her self-imposed order of forgetfulness and played in her mind. Mexico. A lifetime ago. A shot at her goal. Diving for the save. 

The pain of a rusty hook stabbing into her arm. 

She grabbed the muffin with her other hand, balancing both it and the coffee together as she flexed her fingers. The digits barely moved from their half formed fist. She hadn’t been able to straighten them since the incident. 

Nerve damage. That’s what the doctors told her. She was lucky it wasn’t worse. 

Their version of lucky was a bit different from hers. 

The sudden cold front that hit the city wasn’t helping matters. The dull pain and stiffness always got worse when it was cold out. 

Shaking the depressing thoughts away, Hope unceremoniously dumped the remainder of her breakfast in the trash. She wasn’t hungry anymore anyway. She tugged the collar of her jacket higher around her neck and began the intricate ballet through the throng and toward the door. 

She was almost there when it burst open, letting in stray droplets of rain and a boisterous laugh with it. 

“Dude, no! It wasn’t like that at all.” A girl…no woman…walked in, cell phone pressed to her ear, “I’m getting breakfast! …yeah, I’ll be there on time. …of course. …no, I won’t get lost. Jeez, so much confidence. …see ya.” 

She ended the call, bright brown eyes dancing around the shop before landing on Hope. Blinking, her smile grew impossibly wide. She strolled over, waving toward the line, “Are you waiting?” 

Hope shook her head no. She quickly took in the newcomer. She was a slip of a girl. Short. Brown hair tightly pulled back into a bun. Freckly face that made her seem more like a kid than an adult. A worn pair of sweats and sneakers made up her ensemble. There was an aura around her. Happiness. Excitement. 

Not like the rest of the customers getting their jolt of caffeine so they could sit at a desk all day long. 

“Ok, cool.” The woman grinned, “This place is busy. I saw it the other day and thought I should give it a try. Seattle is supposed to have amazing coffee, and if I’m going to have coffee here, I’m not going to stop at a chain, right?” She stepped closer to Hope, “Is their coffee good here, or did I totally waste a bus trip out here?” 

Hope frowned a bit at her closeness, “It’s good. Decent.” She didn’t know why, but she kept talking, “If you want something worth a bus trip, I’d have gone to BauHaus.” 

“Where’s that at?” 

“A few miles away.” 

“Few miles? Damn.” She shrugged, “Guess I’ll have to stay here. What’s good? Do you come here a lot?” 

Hope’s eyebrow ticked up. 

“Wow, that sounded like a really bad come-on, didn’t it?” the stranger laughed, “If I’m going to ask that, I should at least put on a sexy voice or something.” 

Hope felt her lips twitch, “It’s fine. No voices necessary.” 

“Good, because I’ve been told my sexy voice is more like Kermit the Frog…or Pepe Le Pew.” 

“Guess it’s good you didn’t, then.” 

“Agreed.” She stuck out her hand, “I’m Kelley, by the way. Should probably introduce myself since I’m already offering sexy voices.” 

Hope chuckled, “Hope.” 

“Nice to meet you, Hope.” Her hand fit perfectly within the taller woman’s light grip, “Can I buy you a coffee? You can tell me your order so I’ll know what’s good.” 

Hope felt the weight of her watch on her wrist, “I should really be going.” 

“Oh. Ok. Sure. You probably have work or something, right?” Kelley nodded. “What…uh…where do you work?” 

“I’m in communications.” 

“Really? That sounds interesting.” 

Hope knew she should get going. She was going to be late as it was. But, for some reason, she didn’t want to leave Kelley alone. Maybe it was because she looked like such a child in her oversized sweatshirt and glistening eyes. Maybe it was because she was friendlier than anyone Hope had run into in weeks. 

Maybe it was because a sliver of the loneliness that haunted her existence had decided to smash into her the last few days, taunting her with her empty apartment and unsatisfying job. 

Whatever it was, Hope found herself asking, “What do you like?” 

“Huh?” 

“Coffee. What sort of coffee do you like?” 

“Oh, right.” Kelley blushed, “Anything is fine. I switch it up a lot. I don’t like to drink it all the time, so when I do, I like to try new things. Usually there’s lots of sugar. And cream. And chocolate.” 

“Ok.” Hope mentally went through the list of combinations in her head. 

“What do you get?” 

“Americano.” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

Hope tilted her head, “Should probably get in line, then.” Did she even know what an americano was? 

Kelley slipped into the half-formed line. “Tell me about yourself. What brings you to Seattle?” 

“Born and raised.” Hope answered, “I grew up in Richland. Went to UW.” 

“Cool. I’m from Georgia originally, but I moved to California to attend Stanford and completely fell in love with the place. Everyone keeps wondering when I’ll move back South, but I would rather stay out here on the West Coast. My family doesn’t understand how hard it is to surf on Georgia waves.” 

“I can see that being hard.” 

“Great for embarrassing home movies. Want to see me face-plant? Watch me hit a Georgia wave.” Kelley clapped her hands together, “Splat!” 

“Leave it to a Stanford grad to try to surf face-planting waves.” 

Kelley pointed at her, “I see how it is. Well…leave it to a UW grad to hide all the good coffee shops in town.” 

“I didn’t hide them from you.” 

“You didn’t tell me about your favorite until I was already here at this _decent_ place.” 

“I didn’t meet you until you came here.” 

“Guess I’ll have to get you to stick around then, so you can tell me where to go from now on.” Kelley winked. 

Hope smirked, “What makes you think I’ll stick around?” 

“My undeniable cuteness and charm.” Kelley waved her hands, “I already got you to stick around to help me order.” 

“Only to help you order. It’s my good deed for the day.” Hope peered down at her watch. Ten minutes late. 

“Tell your boss you were helping a damsel in distress.” Kelley caught her. 

“Damsel?” 

“In distress.” Kelley snapped her fingers. 

“Don’t get yourself into anymore distress after this.” 

“I make no promises.” She turned to look at the menu, “If I get two americanos, will you take one?” 

Hope blinked. 

“Ok, if I buy you a coffee will you sit and chill with me? I’m all by myself in this big city and I’d rather share a decent cup of coffee with you than an empty chair.” 

“Someone would probably borrow the chair.” 

“Not the point.” Kelley tangled her hands in the sagging pockets of her sweats, “I don’t have to be anywhere for an hour or two, and…well…” she stammered as Hope’s blue eyes bore into her, “I think it’d be nicer to spend it with you than alone.” 

Hope had a feeling she’d used the pouting sad face she was pulling at that exact moment before. 

It was a powerful face. 

Mixed with the surprising fact Hope was enjoying Kelley’s company far more than any other human’s in the last few months, if not years, there was only one way this would end. 

“I can stay a few more minutes for a coffee.” 

“Great!” 

“I can buy my own, though.” 

“What? No. I offered. I’m buying.” Kelley ordered. “So, tell me more about Hope. You said communications?” 

“Yes. It’s what I got my degree in.” 

“So you always wanted to work in that field?” 

Hope hesitated. No, she used to want a different career. She didn’t want to talk about that. Not now. Not ever. “What about you? What do you do?” 

“Me?” Kelley shuffled her feet, “I play soccer, actually. I’m with Sky Blue. I don’t know if you’ve heard of them. We’re part of the Women’s Pro League. We play Seattle tomorrow actually. You should come.” 

Hope didn’t hear anything after soccer. 

Kelley was a soccer player. 

Of course she was. 

She took a shaky step back, gulping down the sudden burning in her chest. 

“Hey, you ok?” 

“Fine.” The scar on her arm began to ache. 

“You sure?” 

Hope nodded, biting her tongue hard. The jolt of pain gave her something to focus on. 

“Well, you should check us out, if you want. Tomorrow night at 8. We’re pretty good. I play forward. I’ll be the one scoring all the goals.” She lightly touched Hope’s shoulder, “Need all the fans we can get.” 

“Women’s pro soccer doesn’t get a lot of attendance.” Hope remembered. 

“Unfortunately.” Kelley agreed. “But, we’ve got some good players. Christie Rampone is on Sky Blue…she’s on the National Team with me. Seattle has Kaylyn Kyle from Canada…” 

“National team?” Hope murmured. 

Kelley heard her above the din, “Yeah. I know we haven’t won that much recently, but we’re getting better. I have a good feeling about the World Cup this year.” 

Hope made a point of not following women’s soccer. Not since her dreams at winning medals and playing the game she loved died along with some of the feeling in her right arm and hand. She had tried at the beginning, but it became clear to here there was no place for her in that world. She was seen as nothing more than a fallen youth. A story of what could have been. 

She still heard snippets, though. The US Women’s National Team were ok. Not the best but not the worst. They did alright in tournaments, but were not winning the major ones. They’d won silver at one of the Olympics, but that was it. Their coach, Greg Ryan, stuck with an ageing roster whose glory days might have long since passed.     

“So, do you want to go? I can probably even swing a ticket for you.” Kelley offered. “Not that they cost that much, but the five bucks could be spent on a hot dog instead.” 

Hope staggered back, “No…no. That’s ok. I should go.” 

Kelley frowned, eyebrows dipping, “If you change your mind…” 

Hope was already pushing around her and out the door. 

“…I’ll leave a ticket for you.” Kelley finished, the door swinging shut.


End file.
